


The Lure of the Siren

by glass_damask



Category: Lupin III
Genre: F/F, France (Country), Undercover, Writers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 15:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18346694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glass_damask/pseuds/glass_damask
Summary: Lupin's favorite belladonna sets her sights on an author's alleged treasure.





	1. Who can You Trust

**Author's Note:**

> sorry, this is super self-indulgent.

The thought of a grand party in an even grander mansion being the first setting for a heist was, of course, right down Fujiko's alley. With this technically not being a solo mission—Lupin had, in fact, told her the needed information on the target and loot, and even paid her fare for a first-class round trip—the thief had "promised" a share in the reward. However, the woman couldn't relish in just how easy the mission was going to be with such harsh winds in her face—even while supposedly being the warmest winter day the city of Lyon had yet to offer, that wasn't much on its own; her car's heater was the only reason she hadn't frozen to death on the ride over.

  The sky was a foggy gray when Fujiko left the Saint-Exupéry Airport and checked into her hotel room; it was now a dark bluish-black by the time she pulled up in front of the Baudin estate.

  Slowly stopping her vehicle in the cobblestone roundabout preceeding the mansion, Fujiko stepped out and gave side-glances to the other parked cars littered about—her vehicle did not stick out one bit.

  Walking up the large marble steps leading to the building's front doors, the thief felt several pairs of eyes giving sidelong glances her way. She ignored them and continued walking. Her originally dark brown hair was now a light and wavy bob which practically glowed against the dark backdrop of night. Even when indoors her nearly platinum blonde wig popped out against her black sheath dress.

  She lingered by the open front door and dipped her hand into her purse, soon fishing out a sleek—and disposable—phone. She thought about how unlucky it was to not have this estate be the main setting for the heist, as the gorgeously architectured building was just begging to be looted.

  After punching in Lupin's number, she instantly said, "Hey," after the conversation clicked on.

  "Hey, Fujicakes!" the fellow thief chirped lovingly.

  Vaguely aware of other party-goers watching her hushed conversation, Fujiko suddenly asked into the receiver, "Aren't you going to come? I'm waiting."

  Lupin chose not to keep up his end of the fake conversation, knowing full well that it was simply to make her look available. "Have fun!" he eventually said before the woman heard the line click off.

  She pretended to sigh and put away her phone, all the while wearing a dejected mask. After ignoring some more glances, Fujiko started to follow the crowd of people toward the party.

 

It didn't take long to find her way to the ballroom. With the largest doors she's seen swung open into one of the mansion's many winding halls, she wouldn't have even needed the help of a leading group to find it.

  The pristine yellow tiles gleamed with the reflection of chandeliers overhead and, with the sea of mingling dresses and suits, it would be very easy to get lost. Fujiko was not the least bit daunted at the task of finding one person in a mass of hundreds—this wasn't her first mission, after all.

  The woman spotted a waiter a few feet away and walked over to him, plucking a flute of champagne off of the young man's tray. She pulled the glass up to her lips and looked out at the crowd around her. After internally reminding herself of her target's face, she started walking around, weaving herself between and around knots of people.

  It only took a good five minutes to find the target.

  The brunette was seated at the makeshift bar, chatting it up with a suit. Only when the man finally walked off did Fujiko stroll over. Taking a seat directly beside the target, it was only a matter of minutes until she struck up a conversation.

  It took a full drink and four minutes—"Bonjour," the target said in a soft voice. "Je m'appelle Kamille. Et toi?"

  Fujiko lied through her teeth: "Je m'appelle Magali." After a few respective sips of champagne, 'Magali' asked, "*Aimez-vous le fête?"

  Kamille's lip twitched before she answered with a jovial, "*Bien sûr!"

  The pair kept up a steady stream of conversation, Kamille mostly asking lighthearted questions while Magali lied at most every given opportunity. The only thing she couldn't lie about was that her "beautiful" eyes were brown.

  A shared second of silence wafted between the two, but it was eventually broken when Kamille suddenly blurted out, and in perfect English, "I really do appreciate your effort at talking only in French, but we could talk in English if it would be easier for you."

  The statement, though polite, came off more condescending than was intended, but it didn't matter one bit to Fujiko—she wasn't going to back down without an explanation. Pretending to smother a giggle with her hand, she asked, "What gave it away?"

  Kamille grinned and took a celebratory gulp of her glass. "Your accent slipped through a couple times."

  Still winding down from her occasional, and very irrational, fear of being caught in the act, Fujiko genuinely laughed at her silliness, Kamille unknowingly joining her. That made things a lot easier. 

 

Well into the night by now, the party was finally starting to wind down, if at least by a smidgen.

  A large portion of people had already left, however, the place still felt just as crowded as before. Fujiko knew that she was only getting this close so fast because of how much Kamille was drinking, and she was in no way going to stop taking advantage of that fact.

  Kamille randomly grabbed Magali's wrist and said, "Let's dance." Her tone was low, her voice slightly slurred. Fujiko obliged, basking in just how lucky she was—she didn't even need to flirt. After half helping the young woman to the dance floor, Fujiko led a shortlived waltz. Kamille was able to keep up for the first and second twirl, but once Fujiko dipped her, she went momentarily limp. Knowing that both the dance and night should come to a close, Magali easily led her dance partner back to her chair, slipping a strip of paper into her purse as she did so.

  The blonde bid her goodnight and farewell and walked out of the house, getting into her car and driving back toward her hotel.

  After chasing the night's alcohol down with some water, Kamille picked up her purse, ready to leave, when a piece of paper fell out. Picking it up from the ground, the tiny sheet read:

_Appelle-moi -- Magali_

  Directly below it was the thief's phone number.


	2. Come Away with Me {Part One}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thief sets up a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for how clunky the flashback is in this one; i had written this mess over a year ago now, and i mainly just wanted to get it on here.

It took barely a day for Kamille to call her.

  The risen sun was trying its hardest to defrost the streets of Vieux Lyon when Magali's phone began to chime a low, comforting tune. Slowing her pace, she put the phone up to her ear and asked, knowing full well who was on the other end, "Yes?"

  Kamille wasted no time in getting right to her point. "Look, I'm sorry about last nigh—" She was silenced by the other woman chuckling.

  "It's okay!" she assured her, and she could have sworn that she heard the other sigh at that. Her confidence having bolstered a bit, she continued on, "Actually, I had been wondering about something since we met last night..."

  She could just see Kamille cock her head quizzically in her mind. "Oh? And what would that be?"

  Despite the previous confidence she felt moments before, Magali still felt a transparent twinge of anxiousness as she answered. "I'm down in Saint-Jean right now—would there be any way I could convince you to come sightseeing with me?"

  Though brazen and, frankly, out of the blue, Kamille still spent a good handful of seconds considering the idea. Magali felt a smile creep up on her face after she heard an eventual, "Why not?" After a few moments of discussion, the two decided to meet up outside the Musée Miniature et Cinema for their first sight. Only a block away, Magali had more than enough time to ponder over what was to come.

 

 _Though more on the vacant side, the semi-empty studio felt crowded with the group's presence. A downpour served as three of the four's only source of entertainment; judging from the_ oohs  _and_ ahhs  _that routinely escaped Lupin's lips, his interest was held up well enough from whatever he was reading._

 _Having enough of the snickers, the woman leaned over the fellow thief's shoulder, taking in the magazine's contents dubiously. "And just_ why  _are you reading that tabloid garbage?" she asked, flicking an index finger on the edge of the page._

_Lupin whipped his head around to stare at her, a mask of amiable empty-headedness covering the rapidly turning gears behind it. "I simply like to divulge in this 'garbage' every once in a while, is all," he answered with a false sense of petulance. Besides, hurt or not, he was in no place to call out the cigarette dangling from her lips._

_The room was poorly lit, but the gleam in the man's eyes were blinding and unmistakable; she knew that he had already planned out an entire heist in a matter of minutes. After all, there was always some strategic thought put into each and every one of his actions—she doesn't give him nearly enough credit._

_In any case, she furrowed her brows and stared all the more intently at the page:_ French novelist, Kamille Rousseau, recently broken up with ladylove of three years. _Fujiko rolled her eyes while reading the title out loud; Jigen snorted from his respective corner of the room._

_"What?" Lupin asked, almost defensively._

_"Lupin, we know what this is about," Jigen pointed out, earning vague nods from both Goemon and Fujiko. Lupin tried to assure them that whatever they were thinking about was wrong, but Fujiko interrupted him._

_"Let me guess," she started. "You want me to go undercover and seduce the woman?" Her brows furrowed once more as she tried to piece everything together. "But to get what? What does she have?"_

_Lupin let out a deflated, albeit exasperated sigh. "Fine... you guys got me." Much like the aging edges of a painting, his lips began to curl as he elaborated: "Legend has it that she has a large quantity of treasure"—he paused for dramatic effect that was lost on his partners in crime—"somewhere on her estate!"_

_Jigen and Fujiko exchanged a blank stare for several seconds; Goemon audibly scoffed._

_"'Legend'?" Fujiko eventually asked after breaking off her and Jigen's staring contest._

_"Yup."_

_"'Treasure'?" Jigen interjected with a stony cop face that could have rivaled Zenigata's._

_"Treasure." Lupin echoed with a firm nod of his head._

_The four had centered heists around wackier facts ("But at least they were_ actually true!" _Fujiko fumed), this they knew. Yet they all had a big assumption behind what fed Lupin this information. Despite being sure, Goemon still asked, just to make absolutely sure. "How do you know this—how can you be so sure?"_

_The master thief gave his friends his trademark Cheshire grin while fanning himself with the magazine. "Wanna take a guess?"_

 

After a solid ten minutes spent waiting, Magali spotted Kamille jogging up the museum steps. The two smiled when their eyes met. "Ready to go?" Kamille asked, clutching the purse slung over her arm.

  The other woman looked up at the museum before answering with a cool, "Of course."

**Author's Note:**

> • Aimez-vous le fête? = (Do) you like the party?
> 
> • Bien sûr! = Of course!


End file.
